


Impetus

by Listenerofshadows



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker getting the love and care he deserves, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, The Jedi Order and Palpatine getting ROASTED at 420 degrees by the Naberries, This isn't as cracky as it sounds i sWEAR
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9497081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: “Me and Ani,” She said between breaths, “We got married.”“Married?!” The adult members of House Naberrie exclaimed in unison.“Shhhhhhh,” Anakin hushed before leaning into Padme, “It’s supposed to be a SECRET.”-In which, things take a whole different path when the newly-wed couple arrive drunk at Padme's parents' doorstep. Now Palpatine's in opposition of his home planet, a confused Anakin is granted political immunity on Naboo while the Naberries and the Jedi Order are in a bitter custody battle over the said padawan in question. (inspired by a post floating around tumblr)





	1. The Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably a close runner-up to being one of the most crackiest-sounding things I have ever wrote about, second only to Motif. This is based on a tumblr post by FlamingAnakin where an anon suggested an AU in which the entire SW universe is changed simply because Padme and Anakin show up drunk and it happens to loosen Anakin's tongue to reveal some pretty crappy things about the Jedi Order and how weird Palpatine is. 
> 
> But anyways, if I can actually be productive for once in my life, i might be able to churn out more than just a single chapter on this fantastic mess that reveals how messed up inside both the jedi and Palpatine is.
> 
> Disclaimers: Mentions of Palpatine being a pervert, nothing too graphic.
> 
> Anyways, please leave a kudos and comment at the end of the chapter to let me know if you enjoyed reading it so far :)

“Where have you two been?” Jobal asked, her eyebrows knitted together in worry as she caught Padme from collapsing onto the ground.

The two were seven hours late—they just about to call the police when the two came lumbering in. Wherever the pair had been, it had been well stocked with liquor.  
Her youngest daughter laughed, her cheeks rosy red. She wore a blue poncho over a dress suspiciously done in the style of a bridal dress.

“Me and Ani,” She said between breaths, “We got married.”

“Married?!” The adult members of House Naberrie exclaimed in unison. Sola’s children were already tucked sound asleep in bed.

“Shhhhhhh,” Anakin hushed before leaning into Padme, “It’s supposed to be a SECRET.”

“When did you two do get married?” Sola asked, a small frown tugging at her face.

“This evening on the setting sun,” Padme smiled dreamily, “It was so beautiful! I—I wanted you to be there, but Ani wouldn’t let me.”

“Not fair.” Anakin pouted, “Its’ a-ah-upposed to be a secccret. You promised.”

“I know I did,” Padme pulled away from her mother to clasp his hands, “I’m sorry.”

The Naberries exchanged looks with one another, as equally as surprised and disturbed by the news as the other. All of them had been in favor of Anakin Skywalker. The kid was awkward and shy, but his genuine care for Padme was evident. Padme herself seemed fond of him; several times she was caught staring into his eyes, lost in thought.  
Padme possessed a beautiful figure and many suitors flocked to her. But none of them seemed captivated by her kind and witty personality; they were only head over heels for her beauty and status. This was the first time they had seen a suitor enchanted for Padme as a person. 

The only problem was the two moved around each other like planets stuck in orbit.

“Those two need a push,” Sola had said with a gleam in her eyes, “Perhaps we could invite Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome to a family dinner when Padme’s visiting. Only it wouldn’t be a family dinner, but a table set for two…”

None of them never imagined the two eloping by themselves. What appeared more disturbing was Anakin’s insistence that it be kept a secret. Were the two afraid of how they would react? Did they really believe they would be angry at their actions?

“Padme, dear, did you get married before or…after you consumed alcohol?” Jobal questioned, attempting to get to the bottom of this sarlacc pit.

“We got married before, whwhy’d—“ Padme’s eyes widened, “Oh no, no, no isn’t like that, we love each other!”

“Love each other,” Anakin repeated.

“After what happened on Geonosis,” She continued, “We couldn’t be separated anymore—we had to be together!”

“Be together,” Anakin agreed, squeezing her hands.

“Anakin, do you know it’s Naboo custom to ask for your beloved one’s father for their hand in marriage?” Ruwee questioned, crossing his arms.  
Anakin paled.

“Nooo’sirr,” He garbled his words together, “But had-a be a secret, just had too!”

“Why does it have to be a secret?” Darred, Sola’s husband, spoke up.

“Jedi can’t marry,” He averted his eyes, “Not ah-upposed too. No attachments.”

“No attachments?” Sola asked skeptically.

“No attachments.” Anakin confirmed, swaying.

“Let’s go sit down in the living room,” Jobol suggested, catching the young Jedi before he fell.

Anakin and Padme readily agreed, although the two insisted on sharing a love sofa together. Once Jobol prepared a pot of tea to relax everyone’s nerves, the discussion resumed.  
“Anakin, Padme. We’re…glad to see you are happy together. But it’s unhealthy to keep your marriage a secret. Do the Jedi…not accept any form of love?” Jobol carefully asked.  
“Love is forbidden. No attachments.” Anakin’s jaw clenched, “But we are encouraged to be compassionate—thaaat’s unconditional love, right? I’m deeply compassionate for Padme.”

“And as I am for you,” Padme giggled.

“No…love?” Sola whispered, scarcely believing this. 

The Jedi Order were renown throughout the galaxy for their peacekeeping, kindness and generosity. She was floored. She couldn’t imagine such a noble order would forbid their members from denying a basic part of themselves; to love. If she was forbidden from loving Darred…she’d go insane.  
Jobol and Juwee shared a look with one another. They couldn’t transmit thoughts and feelings across a mind bond, but they were married long enough to have something close to it. Both had taken Anakin’s aloof personality as a sign of teenage awkwardness. They hadn’t the slightest clue that it was the sign of a person deprived of love. 

“Anakin,” Ruwee said slowly, “every sentient being desires love. It isn’t shameful to admit you love Padme.”

“I do love her!” Anakin declared, his hand wrapped around hers, “I unconditionally love her.”

The poor kid beamed, oblivious to the point Ruwee was making. He was so starved for love, that he stretched compassionate’s definition to justify his feelings for Padme.

“It seems hard living in the Jedi Temples, not being allowed a basic right to marry,” Darred pointed out.

“Marrying…is a basic right?” Anakin frowned before shrugging, “S’okay. Better than being a slave.”

“You were a slave?!” Jobal cried out.

Padme reassuringly placed a hand on his shoulder, worried for his reaction.

“No, no, it’s okay,” He mumbled to her, stroking her hand, “Yeah I was. Only for a little while. The Jedi discovered I could use the Force so they freed me. They wouldn’t free—my mother though. I—I don’t know why, I just—they wouldn’t—“

His voice cracked, as he stared into the ground.

“Anyways, I still got a tracker on my body.”

“It’s still on you?” Padme asked, startled.

Anakin wrinkled his nose, “S’okay, the transmitter and bomb is deactivated.”  
“A bomb?” Padme murmured, “Ani, dear, that is not okay.”

“She’s right,” Ruwee said, “Deactivated or not, it shouldn’t still be there.”

“Really?” Anakin looked up shaken, “I asked Palpatine about it and he said it was okay but—he says a—a lotta things are okay.”

“Anakin,” Jobal asked in a motherly but stern tone, “what does that mean?”

Anakin shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his cheeks reddened, “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Supreme Chancellor or not, if he’s harming you in any way—“ 

“You’d laugh.” Anakin huffed.

“We won’t laugh.” Sola promised.

“You—you’re sure?” He hiccuped.

“We swear under the moon of Naboo we won’t laugh.” She stated solemnly.

“He—he does weird things,” He said in a small voice, “like touch me in places where it makes me feel uncomfortable. He says it’s okay, but I don’t think it is, is it? He—he sometimes reactivates my tracker. He says he does it so he can check up on me to see if I’m safe.  
“W-when I was still taking courses, he’d want to visit me during class and the—the teachers would just let me go. They didn’t do that for anyone else. He’s nice sometimes. I like when he’s nice. But then he does weird things and—“

Anakin cut off his sob-racking words as someone enveloped him in a hug---then another and another—until the whole Naberrie family was wrapped into a group hug with Skywalker in the center. He could sense their love in the Force, it was stronger than he ever imagined it could ever be. He felt…completely and utterly safe in their embrace. The realization caused him to cry harder.

They remained entangled for almost an eternity until they slowly detached. As each person glanced at one another, not a dry face was remaining.

“Anakin, you may have believed you were only marrying Padme, but you were also marrying into our family today. Family loves and looks out for another, Anakin,” Jobal said softly, “What Palpatine did, what the Jedi Order did, is not right.”

“It isn’t?” Anakin asked hesitantly, as the room was starting to spin.

“No, Anakin.”

“Palpatine does weird things, b-but he’s a friend. He means well! He wouldn’t hurt me on purpose—“

“Anakin,” Juwee placed a hand on his shoulder, “We will do everything in our power to make sure he won’t even lay a hand on you ever again.”

“Nev’er ag’ain?” Anakin mumbled, growing increasingly drowsy.

“Never again.” His father-in-law promised.

“Good.” Anakin said as his eyelids fluttered shut.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme Naberrie Amidala woke up with a pounding headache and a burning desire to skin the Supreme Chancellor of the free Republic alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tfw you have a lotta inspiration but no time to write asfkgoigh. I don't know when my next update will be, but hopefully it'll be sometime before the end of the month. Thank you for all the encouraging comments and kudos you guys! You're the bomb dot com ;) 
> 
> Fyi, follow me on tumblr @ i-aim-to-overanalyze if you wanna see some chapter sneak peeks and my occasional tin-foil hat conspiracies.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include: more mentions of Palpatine being a perv and Anakin not quite right in the head (but then what else is new?)

Padme Naberrie Amidala woke up with a pounding headache and a burning desire to skin the Supreme Chancellor of the free Republic alive.

“Arugh,” She sat up, clutching her head in pain.

Her parents had been gracious enough to set them up in a dark bedroom. Anakin was still caught in the jaws of sleep—his chest rising and down steadily. She gently ran her hand through his hair. He looked so peaceful, so innocent. She wanted to believe that Palpatine hadn’t preyed on Anakin. But she has known the Chancellor since a young girl and, she can believe it.

He has never attempted anything on her. But she spent months at his side, learning how to work the floor politically. She’s seen him manipulate people like marionettes to do his bidding. She’s always saw he was a snake behind his kind and naïve mask. She knew during the Crisis on Naboo that he had his greedy eyes set on obtaining the supreme chancellor seat. She only let him have it to secure Naboo’s freedom with as few casualties as possible. He was always a snake, but a snake on their side.

She has never had him make any advances towards her because Palpatine is smart. He wouldn’t risk his whole political career by assaulting his Queen. However, she witnessed how he stared intently at her growing prepubescent figure. How a touch on the shoulder lasted a few seconds longer than necessary. She never liked Palpatine after she discovered his true colors and he knew it. Both Palpatine and Padme put on a play for Naboo, as the finest political partnership the planet has ever produced. A weight lifted off her shoulders when Palpatine officially ended his mentorship.

“You’ve grown into a fine politician,” He gave one of his trademark grandfatherly smiles, “There’s nothing more I can teach you.”

“It’s an honor to receive such a compliment from you, Supreme Chancellor,” She smiled in returned, a carefully crafted one that all politicians are honed in.

The holo-cams buzzed as the press eagerly snapped pictures of the two’s handshake. The Holo-Net News went wild with the event, claiming you could see the “mutual trust and respect in their eyes for one another”. Padme laughed when her hand maidens showed her the article. 

Palpatine’s eyes had flared up with anger and disgust. Padme had beaten him. He pursued her—perhaps he had hopes of Padme becoming one of his puppets. But she slipped through his cracks, slowly distancing herself with her task of helping run a planet. Their dance finished once he became established as a chancellor. He longer had need of her influence.

Padme was untouchable. Anakin, on the other hand, he was a completely different story. It infuriated her to think of such an easy target he must’ve been in Palpatine’s eyes. A former slave inducted into an order of people who forbade love? Poor Ani must’ve been starving for love! Love of any kind—no matter how twisted it was.  
She could just picture it, Palpatine offering to take a young Anakin under his wing. The Jedi are peacemakers, the boy needs training in politics, let me take care of that for you. The Jedi agreed—who would argue when the Chancellor wants to tutor one of their own? Even if there had been dissent—Palpatine would’ve wormed his way in. The Jedi are servitude to the Republic and as a servant of the Republic, let me teach little Anakin.

Anakin, little doe-eyed fresh out of slavery Anakin, wouldn’t have refused. He might’ve been excited, even. He could’ve been starved for any sort of attention—to have Palpatine pay attention to him must’ve been elating. Palpatine wouldn’t have done anything wrong for the first few months. She’s seen how he operates. He would’ve buttered Anakin up, listening to his concerns with fake concern and understanding. Once he learned how to control Anakin, that was when he began.  
It was all her fault, too. If she hadn’t been rash, if she didn’t put such a disgusting man in office—

A hand grabbed her wrist.

“Padme?” Anakin questioned. She couldn’t read his expressions well in the darkness. But she could tell he was confused and perhaps even frightened of where he was.  
“I’m right here,” She said softly, “We’re at my parents’ home.”  
“What—why’d are we at your parents’—“ His breathing hitched, “Oh Force, we told them we got married, didn’t we?!”  
“I did, actually,” She admitted, “But we were both very drunk last night—“  
“Are they going to tell the Jedi Order?!” Anakin interrupted, panicking.  
“Anakin, Anakin, it’s okay,” Padme said, attempting to calm him, “They aren’t going to tell on you. They’re actually happy for us.”  
“That’s—good,” He said, taken back by the news. He let go of her hand suddenly, clutching his stomach.  
“I feel like—puking.” He hissed urgently.  
“Hang on a minute—“ Padme snatched up the waste basket located conveniently by the bed.

He took the waste basket from her and shoved his face into it. She sympathetically rubbed his back as her husband retched up his meals from yesterday.

“I feel awful.” He said, as soon as he placed the bin down.  
“Me too.” Padme murmured.  
He looked at her before laughing, “At least we’re awful together.”  
She grinned, happy to hear his laugh.  
“Anakin, do you…remember what happened last night?” 

“It’s…” Anakin paused, pulling his eyebrows together in concentration, “fuzzy. I remember the bar was closing and we had to get a taxi…”

His voice trailed off. 

“Anakin…?” She asked worriedly.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” He murmured, “I was the one who suggested we go out to the bar. If we hadn’t gotten so drunk—“

“Ani, look at me.” She interrupted, as she placed her hands around his trembling shoulders, “I’m not mad at you. It was my decision to agree with your suggestion. If I hadn’t liked it, I wouldn’t have done it. You didn’t force me to do it, do you understand?”

He stared at her, as if startled by the revelation. She couldn’t sense the Force—but she could almost feel him poking at her presence, looking to see if her words rang truth. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, surprising her how fierce his hug was.

“I understand.” He spoke hoarsely.

“Good.” Padme smiled, as she pulled back to examine him once more. 

He was still so uncertain, still frightened and panicked. Padme’s family was an unexpected variable—a variable that hadn’t been planned for. Anakin had been so insistent on keeping it a secret and she obliged him. But now that it was already unraveling quickly, it set on him on edge.

She pressed her forehead against his, “I love you, Ani. I wouldn’t have married you if I hadn’t.”

His breaths slowed, becoming a steady and calm cadence. He inhaled, his tongue clashing against his teeth to start forming words—  
A pinging sound pierced the air and he flinched. He reached to his side for a nonexistent lightsaber.

“It’s just the buzzer,” She whispered to him before speaking up, “yes?”

The door slid open, revealing C-3PO with a tray. Padme blinked, had they brought the droids with them? She looked over at Anakin, who seemed to be sharing the same thought.

“Oh! You’re already awake!” The protocol droid spoke, unaware of their confusion. He walked over to their bedside, prattling on, “Mistress Padme, your parents requested me to check up on you and Master Ani and to give you this.”

He placed the tray down on the bedside table. It was two glasses of water with two tablets—presumably pills to help with the hangover.

“Also! They ask for the two of you to join them in the gardens.”

“Thank you, Threepio,” Anakin hesitated, “Threepio…how did you get here?”

“It’s all R2D2’s fault! That astromech is more trouble than he is worth, Master Ani! He’s a—“ The protocol droid descended into a lengthy string of swear words from various languages.

Padme had no idea what any of them meant—the droid knew over 6 million after all—but she could tell from the context they were very unpleasant.

“What’d Artoo do this time?” Anakin asked. Padme hid a smirk with her hand; he sounded like a parent meditating arguments between their children.

“You had informed us that you’d be back at precisely 2100 standard time. When you didn’t return, he sought to find you himself. I tried to dissuade him but he wouldn’t listen! I followed him only to make sure he didn’t end up as scrap, though that overweight glob of grease certainly deserves it!”

“Artoo…was worried about us?” Padme asked. She’d never heard of a droid expressing so much independent programming. Artoo certainly was a special case—the little droid had a lot of spunk for an astromech droid. But even he usually operated based off his programming.

“I suppose, in a way he was.” C-3PO responded, “Or it is quite possible he has his wires crossed. I’ve never met an astromech like the likes of him—so I am uncertain of his intentions.”

“Perhaps he should be checked out, to make sure there isn’t anything wrong with him…” Padme mulled. 

“Hey, I’m sure nothing’s wrong with him,” Anakin protested, “He just wanted to make sure we’re safe, that’s all!”

His indignation reminded Padme of how excited he was to show off C3PO. Anakin was fond of droids from the day she first met him. She hadn’t pondered the idea until now that droids were perhaps the only true friends her husband had. The image of a young Anakin talking his problems out to an astromech like Artoo almost broke her heart.  
“Perhaps you’re right,” Padme conceded before looking at C3PO, “Please tell my parents that we’ll be in the gardens in a few minutes.”

“Of course, Mistress Padme,” The Protocol droid straightened before walking out of the room.

Anakin contorted his face, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation with her parents.

“What’s…this?” He pointed at the pills on the tray, clearly avoiding the topic.

“It’s a pill designed to help with hangovers,” She explained as she eagerly grabbed one and gulped it down with water. Her head still felt like it was going to explode at any moment.

“I guess this is your first-time drinking?”

“No!” He quickly denied before glancing down, “Well, yeah. Master Obiwan took me to a lot of bars. Claims it’s a good place for information. He’d drink sometimes, but wouldn’t ever let me do it.”

“Does it bother you?” She asked suddenly, “Having to call him ‘master?’”

His cheeks flushed red.

“It’s—it’s not the same, Padme! He doesn’t own me, I know that. It’s just a term of respect, that’s all.” He hotly retorted, though he avoided making eye contact.

“I see,” She said, dropping the topic for now. “We should get ready to go see my parents.”

He squirmed uncomfortably, “Do we have to?”

“Ani, you met them before. They don’t bite.”

“Are you sure they’re okay with…” He looked around anxiously before loudly whispering, “us?!”

“Anakin, all of them care for you. A lot. My mom and dad especially love you. My nieces adore you. I’m pretty sure my sister was secretly plotting to set us up if we hadn’t gotten together on our own,” She interlocked hands with Anakin, “I’d like for you to see them again, but I don’t want to force you to come with me, Ani. Do you understand?”

“I—I understand.” He said, too quickly for Padme’s taste.

He fervently pressed himself against her. “I’ll go with you, my lady.”

She had the distinctive feeling he was afraid of losing her. Silly to some it might seem, but he seemed genuinely concerned that if he said no, she’d leave him. Yes was his only option, whether he liked it or not, in his mind. In a twisted sense, she had become another master to him.


	3. The Morning After: Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin Skywalker woke up with a pounding headache and the immediate urge to hide underneath the covers and never ever come out of the covers ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone it's been a while since an update, hasn't it? I actually have a few chapters already written, it just so happens they all occur during the second half of this story. This update, probably took far longer than it needed to be because I struggled. so. hard. getting into the head of Anakin. A very awkward padawan Anakin whose secret marriage fell apart faster than you can say "I'll never join the dark side". This chapter is a result of a writing exercise I did to finally crack open into his pov. I went back and forth if I should actually publish this chapter, but I said "Eh? What the heck? What's fanfic if you don't self-indulge yourself doing it."

Anakin Skywalker woke up with a pounding headache and the immediate urge to hide underneath the covers and never ever come out of the covers ever. “Immediate” meaning approximately two minutes after waking up and slowly putting the pieces together.

The first thing his mind recongized shortly after the excruciating headache is that he was in a strange bed with a person he could only assume was Padme. Except, his mind felt as fried some of the droids’ circuit boards that he used to fix up at Watto’s shop. He could remember their wedding ceremony as clear as day. The beautiful sunset, his sweet sweet Padme dressed in the traditional Naboo wedding clothe. He remembered his breath hitching as she joined his side as they stood in front of the Holy Man who recited their vows.

The wedding ceremony was a very simple affair lasted under fifteen minutes but to Anakin, it lasted a lifetime. It’d been hard to find a Holy Man on such short notice, and even harder for Padme to find a gown that suited her. He’d been amazed that she pulled it off, but he was starting to learn that Padme could pull off a pair of rags and still look fabulous in them.

Yes, he remembered the wedding very vividly. It was details that followed afterward that were fuzzy. He remembered watching the sun dip behind the equator, as he held onto Padme’s hand tightly. They hadn’t long before he was to escort back to her parents’ home.

He’d suggested they go to a bar to celebrate and Padme had agreed. After that, the details became harder and harder to discern. Something about the bar owner shooing them out and Padme calling for a cab? If that was the case, he shouldn’t be sharing a bed with her. She should be safely at home in her own bed and he should be on his way back to Corusant—

“Padme?” Anakin grabbed the person’s wrist. His heart started to beat loudly inside of his chest at the ramifications of what this all potentially meant.

“I’m right here,” His Angel murmured gently, “We’re at my parents house.”

No. No, no, no. This can’t be real this has to be a nightmare—

“What—why’d we are we at your parents’—” He breathed in sharply, “Oh Force, we told them we got married, didn’t we?!”

A random snippet of memory flashed in his mind. He could vaguely recall leaning heavily on Padme for support as her parents looked at them with alarm and worry.

“I did, actually,” She admitted, “But we were both very drunk last night—”

“Are they going to tell the Jedi Order?!” Anakin burst out, panicking.

“Anakin, Anakin, it’s okay,” Padme murmured smoothly as she squeezed his hand, “They aren’t going to tell on you. They’re actually happy for us.”

“That’s—good,” He said weakly. He felt a sudden urge for the contents of his stomach to fly out through his mouth. He let go of Padme’s hand, in attempt to cover his mouth.

“I feel like—puking.” He hissed urgently.

“Hang on a minute—” Padme picked up a wastebasket and immediately held it up for him. He snatched it away and shoved his face down into it. As he deposited his meals from yesterday into the basket, Padme rubbed his back in comfort.

“I feel awful.” He admitted, placing the bin down on the floor once more.

“Me too.” Padme said, agreeing with his sentiment.

He turned his head to look at her—the general shape of her face, that is. It was too dark in the room to truly make out her face.

A dry laugh tickled his throat, “At least we’re awful together.”

“Anakin, do you…remember what happened last night?” She asked him quietly once his laughter died down.

“It’s…” Anakin hesitated, “fuzzy. I remember the bar was closing? And we had to get a taxi..”

His voice trailed off. Getting a couple “celebratory drinks” had proved to be another of his stupid impulsive decisions. He’d never drank hard liquor before, and it had been a big excuse just for him to experience it in a setting where he wasn’t constantly monitored by Obiwan like a youngling—

“Anakin…?” Padme interjected, concern seeping through her voice.

“It’s my fault isn’t it,” He muttered as his shoulders started to shake, “I was the one who suggested we go out to the bar. If we hadn’t gotten so drunk—”

“Ani, look at me.” She interrupted, placing her hands around his trembling frame, “I’m not mad at you. It was my decision agree with your suggestion. If I hadn’t liked it, I wouldn’t have done it. You didn’t force me to do it do you understand?”

He froze, feeling as though he’d had been slapped across the face with truth. Padme was different than Anakin in that she did what she pleased. Anakin always had to worry about the authorities that controlled his life. For Padme, she was the authority. She was bound by laws and regulations, but no one controlled her movement.

Even still, he turned to the Force for support. The Force always spoke truth, it never lied to him. He needed to be reassured that he hadn’t twisted Padme through the use of accidental Force suggestion. It was only when the Force reaffirmed Padme’s words that he embraced her in relief.

“I understand.” He whispered.

“Good.” Padme smiled, pulling back to look at him.

He thought back to that night at her family’s summer home, next to the roaring fire. She’d been right, back then. They couldn’t hide their marriage. The secret didn’t last more than five hours. It was falling apart fast and Anakin wasn’t sure how to fix it. If they could even fix it.

Padme swooped in to stop his racing thoughts.

She gently pressed her forehead against his, “I love you, Ani. I wouldn’t have married you if I hadn’t.”

Gradually, his breath grew slowed, as he took in the weight of her words. Padme loved him, despite his screw-ups. He opened his mouth to tell her of his gratitude when an alarm blared.

He flinched at the sudden sound. He instinctively reached for a lightsaber attached to his person only to come up empty.

“It’s just the buzzer.” Padme whispered assurance before speaking up, “Yes?”

The door slid open, revealing C-3PO with a tray. Anakin’s eyes widened in surprise. Had C3PO and R2D2 accompanied them to her parents’ house? He looked over at Padme, who seemed just as surprised as he was.

“Oh! You’re already awake!” C3PO spoke, in typical C3PO obliviousness. He walked over to the bedside, continuing to prattle on, “Mistress Padme, your parents requested me to check up on you and Master Ani and to give you this.”

He placed the silver tray down on Padme’s beside table. Two glasses of water rested on the tray alongside two gray pills. Anakin had no idea what purpose the pills served.

“Also! They ask for the two of you to join them in the gardens.”

“Thank you, Threepio,” Anakin said before pausing, “Threepio..how didd you get here?”

The droid’s sensory lights flared in agitation.

“It’s all R2D2’s fault! That astromech is more trouble than he is worth, Master Ani! He’s a—” The protocol droid spat out a nasty string of expletives from various languages.

Anakin himself could pick up a few Huttesse curse words in there, but he was certain the others were as worse as the ones he could understand. C3PO was a fussy droid that it didn’t take much to poke his ire.

“What’d Artoo do this time?” Anakin asked, exasperated.

“You had informed us that you’d be back at precisely 2100 standard time. When you didn’t return, he sought to find you himself. I tried to dissuade him but he woudn’t listen! I followed him only to make sure he didn’t end up as scrap, though that overweight glob of grease certainly deserves it!”

“Artoo…was worried about us?” Padme asked, with raised skepticism in her voice.

Anakin, in contrast, couldn’t help but break out in a grin. People never gave credit to how resourceful droids could be when they felt like it. They had the capability to learn from experience, if sentients allowed them to. He always hated being ordered by the Council to wipe a droid’s memory after a mission. With every wipe, it erased part of what made that droid stick out from the rest.

“I suppose, in a way he was,” C-3PO responded, “Or it is quite possible he has his wires crossed. I’ve never met an astromech as the likes of him—so I am uncertain of his intentions.”

“Perhaps he should be checked out, to make sure there isn’t anything wrong with him…” Padme murmured worriedly.

“Hey, I’m sure nothing’s wrong with him,” Anakin said indignantly, “He just wanted to make sure we’re safe, that’s all!”

He couldn’t bear to have Artoo set back to his default factory settings. The little droid had a lotta spunk in him—he was amazed he survived with this much personality intact as a droid in service to Naboo Royalty.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Padme conceded as she glanced over to C3PO, “Please tell my parents that we’ll be in the gardens in a few minutes.”

“Of course, Mistress Padme,” The Protocol Droid straightened before exiting the room.

Anakin made a face, turning away from Padme’s gaze. Now that C3PO was out of the room, the tension in the room thickened. He knew she knew that he preferred dealing with angry gundark than face her parents head on.

“What’s…this?” He pointed at the pills, in a weak attempt to avoid the topic.

“It’s a pill designed to help with hangovers,” She explained, eagerly reaching for a pill and swallowing it down with the aid of water.

She looked over to him, “I guess this is your first time drinking?”

“No!” He quickly denied before hanging his head, “Well, yeah. Master Obiwan took me to a lot of bars. Claims it’s a good place for information. He’d drink sometimes, but wouldn’t ever let me do it.”

“Does it bother you?” She asked suddenly, “Having to call him ‘master?’”

His cheeks heat up from embarrassment. At the start of his apprenticeship, Obiwan repeatedly made sure that Anakin understood that concept. He even gave him permission to call him Obiwan outside the earshot of the other Jedi. Anakin usually preferred to call him as “Master Obiwan”. Obiwan wasn’t like the slave masters in Tatoonie at all. He was a good master, who was firm but just in his reprimands. Anakin looked up to him as a father of sorts.

“It’s—it’s not the same, Padme! He doesn’t own me, I know that. It’s just a term of respect, that’s all,” He retorted hotly, although he avoided eye contact with her.

“I see,” She said, in a tone of voice which meant they would discuss things later, “We should get ready to go see my parents.”

He felt ready to throw the blankets over his head and pretend the outside world didn’t exist.

“Do we have to?” He said, his voice dropping into that whinny pitch he knew made him sound like a little kid.

“Ani, you met them before. They don’t bite.”

“Are you sure they’re okay with..” He looked around anxiously before loudly whispering, “us?!”

Marriage has never been an option for him, whether as a slave or Jedi. Marriages are not legal binding amongst slaves, although that doesn’t stop unions from forming. Some slaves swore off unions to prevent the inevitable heartbreak that occurred when an union was ripped apart by an auction.

For the Jedi, they took pride in remaining celibate. Their entire lives are dedicated to serving the Force. A split devotion between the Force and a romantic partner was deeply frowned upon. There was always rumors that circulated the Temple about certain Jedi breaking the code, but they were never proven.

He knew he didn’t deserve Padme. It didn’t stop his heart from desperately aching for her, though. He couldn’t stand the thought of being torn away from her. He rather die than spend a lifetime without Padme at his side.

“Anakin, all of them care for you. A lot. My mom and dad especially love you. My nieces adore you. I’m pretty sure my sister was secretly plotting to set us up if we hadn’t gotten together on our own,” She interlocked her petite fingers with Anakin’s, “I’d like for you to see them again, but I don’t want to force you to come with me, Ani. Do you understand?”

“I—I understand.” He said, inhaling a deep breath.

He pressed against her, “I’ll go with you my lady.”

He had no choice. He’d lose her, otherwise. If he said no, she might reconsider marrying him. He had nothing to offer a former queen like her who still stood on high political standing. He was simply a slave turned Jedi. Everyone knew the Jedi had no fortune, no worldly possessions. The Jedi Order as a collective had droids and ships and bank accounts, but it was shared by all.

Although Padme said she loved him and that he knew she wouldn’t leave him—the Force told him so and the Force never ever lies—a fear still lingered in his mind. He knew as a Jedi he is above fear, a Jedi does not fear. Anakin Skywalker the padawan does not fear. But Anakin Skywalker the former slave boy does fear. So he quieted the fear by picking the choice he knew would make Padme pleased.

For a second, he thought he saw Padme’s eyes light up with alarm. Then she pursued her lips and said, “Alright.”


End file.
